


The Favorite Horcrux

by wetdandelions, whitedandelions



Series: horcrux/harry [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Anal Fingering, Arranged Marriage, Bondage, Consent Issues, Creampie, Dark, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Food Kink, M/M, Multi, Public Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Riding, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Threesome - M/M/M, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2020-10-24 09:37:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20703848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wetdandelions/pseuds/wetdandelions, https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitedandelions/pseuds/whitedandelions
Summary: The horcruxes betray Harry and he wakes up to Voldemort.  To his horror, he’s given to the horcruxes to keep them content, and somehow finds that perhaps maybe not everything is lost…Sequel to our little horcrux, the gangbang AU





	1. The Arrangement

**Author's Note:**

> WOW, so almost 3 years later and I finally started the sequel I am absolutely horrible. This is going to be a multichapter, and while it is going to be mostly smut, there will be some plot! Also, this isn’t a happy story since it’s you know Voldemort Wins AU! And of course there’s going to be noncon, but mostly dubcon – though there will be a happy ending. Also, since you know, 3 years, someone gave me this suggestion to make the horcrux’s names in a different language so thank you mystery person it has stuck with me all this time, thank you!
> 
> ALSO this is an AU so the chamber of secrets thing did not happen in the second book. And wetdandelions was my smut account, and I’m trying to just use whitedandelions now (I mean, why have two separate accounts when I have all the smut on this account already XD)

When Harry opens his eyes, he finds himself bound by ropes. They’re tight enough that he has no way to escape, and even when he closes his eyes again to concentrate, he can’t sense his wand at all.

“Finally ready to join the world of the living, Harry?”

Harry freezes at the name, even though he hadn’t been moving in the first place. It’s wheezy, and there’s an undertone of cruelty in it, and there’s really no one else it could be.

He keeps his eyes closed in defeat, knowing that it was his own fault that he was here.

Unbidden, the image of Diary comes to his mind, of his desperate look and plea and how it had gotten him here. Bound by ropes in the company of _Voldemort_.

He really hadn’t expected the horcruxes to betray him. They had seemed so eager to protect him, so willing to _die_ for him that he had believed them.

And now he was paying for it.

His _friends_ were paying for it. The world was.

“Nothing to say?” The voice is closer this time, and it’s the only warning he gets before rough, chapped lips are descending on his.

Harry stiffens in horror, and fear keeps him frozen. After a second more, the lips retreat and Harry finally gets the courage to open his eyes.

Voldemort is looking down at him, and he’s even more ghastly up close. His skin has scales hidden beneath them, making him look not human. His lips are bared open in an imitation of a smile and it brings shivers down his spine.

“Fuck you,” he spits, and Voldemort _laughs_, the sound chilling.

“You would like to, wouldn’t you? After all, with what my horcruxes have told me, you’re quite the whore.”

His heart aches at the reminder of his stupidity, and he turns his face, unwilling to keep looking at Voldemort.

Unfortunately, he’s in the hands of his worst enemy, so he isn’t too surprised when Voldemort uses magic to force Harry to look back up at him. He glares, but he knows there’s no heat in it when Voldemort leans closer to him.

“Taking them all, even two of them at once…using your mouth and your arse? I would ask who taught you, but I shudder to think of it being Dumbledore.”

“Don’t you dare say his name!” erupts out of Harry before he can even attempt to keep quiet and when Voldemort’s smile grows, Harry wonders if that was what he was waiting for all this time.

“Ah, there’s that fiery temper,” says Voldemort, and Harry wants to tug away but Voldemort’s magic is cruel and unyielding as he brings a thumb up to swipe at Harry’s lower lip. 

Instantly, all the fight leaves him as he stares up in horror at Voldemort.

“And there’s the fear that you emit so beautifully,” says Voldemort. “Pity I won’t be using it until later.”

“You bastard,” he says with all the hatred he can muster, and Voldemort’s eyes flash red.

Before he can even start to suspect something, he’s turned over by Voldemort’s magic, his arse in the air and the ropes still tight around him. He’s completely naked, the air cold and unforgiving.

“You need the vulgarity fucked out of you,” says Voldemort, and he sounds _gleeful_. “Thankfully, my generals will take care of that.”

There’s a gag on his mouth before he can respond, and the last thing he hears is Voldemort’s retreating footsteps.

* * *

He wakes to someone playing with his hair.

He’s naked, but there’s a cloak around him now and the gag is gone. When he turns his head, there’s a teenaged Tom Riddle looking at him morosely.

They’re around the same age. He’s blonde with green eyes, but there’s no mistaking his features. It’s hidden better than before, with only a few features to link him to Voldemort, but it’s there if he really looks.

“I’m sorry,” he says, quietly, “I came as fast as I could.”

“You betrayed me,” Harry says, even though he’s bound and naked and completely vulnerable, he’s still so unbelievably angry. “After I trusted you – after I _let_ you have your way with me, I…I can’t believe you.”

“I know you’re mad,” the horcrux says, and for an instant, he looks so much like Diary that Harry’s instantly sure that it’s him. 

That only incites him further because it’s Diary’s betrayal in the end that hurt the most. He had made him feel safe in a way no one had ever before, and now that he’s here, it makes him want to lash out.

But he can’t, because despite how sorry Diary looks, Harry’s tied up and naked as a present to –

“You’re his _general_?” he spits out and Diary flinches in his anger. “What does that even mean?”

“Well,” says Diary, hesitantly, “First off, I go by Denik now. It’s diary in Czech.”

Harry levels an unimpressed look at him and Denik looks away, looking sheepish. “The others changed too. We all thought Voldemort was going to kill us when we first came to him, but we were powerful thanks to your magic. So he made us all his generals.”

“And you accepted?” he asks, in disbelief, and Denik fixes him with a frown.

“Harry, you were going to kill us. This was the only option.”

Harry can’t think of anything to say so he keeps quiet. He hadn’t been thinking straight at the moment, so overwhelmed with the knowledge that he was a horcrux himself that he hadn’t even thought about the other horcruxes’ feelings. 

Eventually, Denik continues. “And you were never going to win, Harry. Even if you killed _us_, you would have to die to kill him. We were willing to die because honestly, I don’t even really know if I knew what it meant to be alive before I met you… but I wasn’t willing to let _you_ die.”

His heart’s in his throat; he can’t keep looking at Denik’s honest face without breaking himself.

He hadn’t had any time to explore how he felt about being a horcrux. After finding out, he had given himself to the horcruxes and had stopped thinking as soon as Denik had had his way with him. He could only remember the feeling of being speared open; he had purposefully tried not to think about the fact that he was going to sacrifice himself to Voldemort after everything.

“I love you,” Denik’s words break through his stupor and Harry looks up at him in shock.

“You don’t even know what love is,” he protests, but Denik shakes his head.

“I have my memories,” he says, “and I know I love you more than anything else in the world, Harry. I think about you every moment of the day. When I wake up, my first thought is of you, and when I die, I want my last to be of you.”

“You were definitely put into a diary,” he says, weakly, and Denik scowls at him.

“I may be a horcrux, but so are _you_. I know what love is.”

He’s about to protest, but he lets the words die in his throat as he looks up at Denik. He looks so earnest, so regretful that it almost makes Harry want to believe him. But he had tricked him once before, when he told him that he would go quietly and –

But what if Denik’s the truth? What if he had only betrayed Harry because he wanted to keep him alive?

The horcruxes had only ever wanted to protect him…

“If you love me,” he says, “then why aren’t you releasing me?”

“I can’t. He’s stronger than all of us.”

He doesn’t know if he can trust Denik. But the only other option is to stay here forever on his knees, and it’s comfortable in a way only an expensive bed can be, but he’s still _naked_ and he just wants to go back to sleep forever.

“Then if you do what he says, can you help?”

There’s a long pause. “I can go talk to him,” Denik offers, but he sounds hesitant.

Harry’s still mad. He still can’t trust Denik, can’t trust any of the horcruxes even if Denik doesn’t seem to be lying. But if he sends Denik to fight on his behalf and Voldemort gets mad then Denik’s blood will be on his hands. And then he’ll be all alone.

“Just do it,” he says, quietly, and he knows Denik can still sense his emotions because of the bond they share, so it doesn’t surprise him when Denik lets loose a shuddering breath.

“Really?” Denik asks quietly, and when Harry nods, Denik moves forward to kiss him chastely on the cheek. “I’ll be gentle, love.”

Harry closes his eyes when Denik removes the cloak, leaving him bound and naked and ready for the taking. Denik hadn’t lied; when he touches Harry, it’s reverent, as if he’s any rougher Harry will break. He doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t need to. His magic’s enough a sign of intent, because he’s made wide and gaping with just a single touch of Denik’s finger.

His finger enters him with little preamble, reaching deep inside thanks to magic. He adds another in seconds, scissoring the two digits back and forth and then thrusting forward enough to draw a yelp from Harry.

When he pulls his fingers out, Harry lets out a small gasp in surprise. Denik’s hand rests on his hip for a moment in hesitation, as if he doesn’t want to hurt Harry, but then he’s pressing in, the blunt head of his cock hard and unyielding. Harry digs his nails into his palms, tears gathering at the edge of his eyes, and he lets loose a breath, trying his best to relax even though Denik is still thrusting forward.

And then he’s all the way in. Harry thinks he’s going to break if he thinks any longer about it, so he doesn’t think and just lets go, wrapping himself in the feeling of Denik inside him. He’s large, and it’s something he hadn’t thought about the first time since he hadn’t anything to compare it to, but he’s just really _big_ and it’s making Harry lose his mind.

“Are you okay, love?” asks Denik, his hands placed at the side of his hips and Harry doesn’t respond.

Denik doesn’t need it though, linked as they are, and without any more hesitation, he moves. He doesn’t give Harry time to rest; instead, he’s relentless, almost as if he wants to get it over with.

And Harry would be offended, but he can’t – not when he should _want_ this to be over as soon as possible. Because he shouldn’t want Denik in him, he shouldn’t enjoy this, not when Denik’s only doing this because of Voldemort.

He tries his best to hold in his whimpers, but just like the last time, he can’t hold it back for long, so overwhelmed with the feeling of Denik fucking him hard and long. He still remembers how hard he had been taken; to him, it had happened just yesterday, even though that had to be impossible considering how much Denik had changed. And he still remembers how completely out of control he had felt, and now, with the ropes, the feeling was only amplified.

Just like last time, Denik doesn’t slow at all when he gets close; in fact, he speeds up to nearly punishing levels. Harry bites down hard on his lip, but the whimpers escape anyway, and it’s all he can do to stop himself from pleading for a break. He should take it like a good boy, considering Denik’s really only fucking him to help him, and he repeats this over and over in his head even when Denik thrusts so hard he almost whites out.

Cum is spurting into him a second later, tearing a shocked gasp out of him as he swivels to look at Denik. He’s sweating, which isn’t a surprise considering the speed he had been fucking Harry, and his blonde hair looks so out of place to what he’s used to. But when Denik opens his now green eyes and looks at him, a sappy smile starting to form, Harry flushes at the sight. He can’t help noticing how attractive the blonde hair makes Denik look and he feels guilty for it.

This time, the dizzying spell from Denik taking his magic is significantly less, and since the ropes disappear at the same time, all Harry feels is relief. He doesn’t move for a second even after the ropes are gone, still sore from being held down in the same position for so long, so Denik has enough time to help him up, bringing him into his lap and cuddling him.

“Is this okay?” he asks, even though he had been so forceful to Harry earlier, and Harry nods, unable to form words. He buries his face into the crook of Denik’s neck and wonders just how he had gotten himself in this predicament. 

Denik brings a hand up, and for the second time of the day, he plays with Harry’s hair. He’s gentle about it, and it feels good in a way, letting him have a brief respite to calm down his still quickly beating heart. 

“Your friends are safe.”

Denik’s voice is soft, so soft that if Harry wasn’t currently cuddled up to him, there was no way he would’ve heard him. He glances up in surprise, but before he can interrogate Denik about it, the door opens.

The wizard standing in the doorway is obviously a horcrux. Even if he looks different from before, Harry knows he’ll never forget how one of them looks; beyond that, he’ll never forget how the magic that they all release into the air feels.

He’s taller than Denik, and his hair is jet black and pulled into a low ponytail. He looks aristocratic, with his high cheekbones and well-defined nose, only punctuated with the way he’s staring at Harry and Denik. He’s also much older, possibly old enough to be one of Harry’s professors, though his age does nothing to detract from his appearance. He’s ridiculously attractive even though he looks nothing like Tom Riddle anymore, and Harry shifts uncomfortably.

The horcrux notices because his stern expression disappears immediately, turning into a crooked smirk. It fits on him, despite making him look evil despite his princely exterior, and Harry shivers unconsciously when the horcrux approaches.

“What do you go by now?” he asks when he regains control of himself, and the horcrux raises one elegant eyebrow.

“To everyone else, Presley, but to you, I’ll prefer you to call me Ring,” he says as he walks forward, and when he takes Harry’s hand into his, Harry doesn’t stop him. Harry does stammer out intelligibly in shock when Ring bends down to kiss his hand because he’s still naked and his hole’s leaking Denik’s cum so he doesn’t really think he should be treated like an innocent maiden.

Ring looks like he’s thinking the same thing, because instead of letting go of his hand when he straightens, he pulls Harry into him, drawing a yelp from Harry and an outraged sound from Denik.

“Hey!” protests Denik, and Ring just smirks at him before leaning down and drawing Harry into a deep kiss. 

And surprisingly, Harry isn’t even bothered by Ring not asking for permission; he’s much more distracted by the way Ring kisses him, sweet and slow and so much like the last time when Ring had his tongue in Harry’s arse. The memory makes him flush a deep red and Ring seems to notice when he finally pulls away.

“A little hot and bothered, are we?” he asks, his British accent even more prominent than before, and it _fits_ so well with the image Ring presents that it makes Harry a little dizzy for a second.

And he knows exactly why he’s short of breath and it’s because, even though Denik had only been supposed to fuck him to remove the ropes, he’s still so turned on that it’s a little embarrassing.

He’s not wearing anything, and so when Ring pushes him gently back onto the bed, the skin-to-skin contact only makes him want him even more.

Harry’s guilty that he feels this way because his horniness has done more harm than good – after all, Voldemort _won_ because of him – and it must show on his face or in his mind, he’s not quite sure how Ring knows, but Ring isn’t getting closer to him, he’s just frowning at him.

“Do not feel guilty about enjoying yourself, Harry,” he commands, and he gently places his hands on Harry’s shoulders. “I am not going to fuck you if you continue beating yourself up over nothing.”

“And what if I don’t want to fuck you?” he asks, just to be contrary, and he’s rewarded when Ring rolls his eyes at him. 

“Do you _want_ me to spank you?” he asks, and then pauses when quite obviously, Harry’s dick gives a twitch at the thought. “Ah,” he says, and for a second, Harry thinks he’s going to be turned around and spanked right then and there, but instead, Ring hooks his arms around his legs, pulling him close enough that Harry’s legs are on either side of him.

Harry doesn’t struggle and lets himself get pulled, and although he doesn’t want to admit it, he likes the feeling of it, of how powerless it makes him feel. The spanking is sounding more and more enticing, but it looks like Ring isn’t about to humor him.

“You want to be punished,” Ring says, lowly, “because you think you did something wrong. But you don’t realize that you’re right where you belong.”

“I belong _here_?” he asks, just to see the way Ring’s eyes narrow at him.

“Yes,” Ring all but snarls, and then quite suddenly moves so that he can shove his pointer finger straight into Harry’s abused hole.

It’s the suddenness of the action that makes Harry cry out and not the pain, because he’s already stretched open from Denik’s dick and Ring’s finger doesn’t do anything. The cum inside squelches around Ring’s finger, and Ring makes a face before adding another. He doesn’t seem very happy with how open Harry is thanks to Denik, and he’s about to apologize when Ring adds his ring finger, drawing a short gasp from him.

This seems to be all the time Denik can stand being ignored, because he’s suddenly there, hoisting Harry up and into his arms. His back’s flush with Denik’s, with the horcrux’s leg surrounding him, and he can feel Denik’s cock already stiffening back up behind him.

Ring doesn’t look very happy that Denik is intruding, and it’s obvious by the way his mouth’s quirked downward. “You already had him to yourself,” he says, his lip curling, but Denik just laughs at Ring’s ire.

“Come on,” he said, “can’t we share like we did last time?”

Ring looks outraged, “I did not fuck him the last time, and I believe I might’ve been the only one. You can watch, if you must, but this time, Harry’s mine.” His word ends with a snarl, and without warning, he pulls his hand out and then thrusts right into Harry until he’s balls deep.

Harry screams, biting down hard on his lip in order to try and muffle something, but he hadn’t even noticed Ring undressing so he’s surprised. He can’t even do anything but wrap his legs around Ring because Denik is still holding him captive, and complaining loudly, his grumbles hard to understand as Harry’s currently getting fucked _hard_.

“I don’t belong here,” he tries again, because their conversation had been sidetracked earlier, and he wants the horcrux to understand, but all it succeeds in doing is getting Ring even more annoyed. His thrusts are brutal and relentless as he shoves hard into Harry, pushing him back into Denik’s broad chest each and every thrust. 

“You do,” says Denik, instead of Ring, and he’s still so hard and unyielding behind Harry, each thrust pushing him back not only on Denik’s chest, but also his cock, and he flushes at the memory of him getting penetrated by both Locket and Diadem. 

Denik loops a hand underneath Harry, and it’s quite obvious that he’s jerking himself off, the pre-cum smearing onto Harry’s back. 

Ring notices as well, a smirk on his face as he looks up at Denik. “You can wait if you want,” he says, “because I’m more than willing to take you after, Denik.”

Harry can’t see Denik’s reaction, and although he’s pretty sure Ring means it as a joke, the picture it brings up is almost too much for him. Denik’s blonde hair will look way too pretty splayed on a bed and he’ll look so gorgeous with a flush in his face as Ring rams him as hard as he’s doing Harry, and the thought makes him come untouched.

His cum lands on his own chest, and while the feeling is degrading, the thought of them knowing exactly what made him come is way more embarrassing than to dwell on how utterly dirty he is.

He must tighten up in a way Ring likes because the horcrux inside of him groans, his own cum joining Diary’s old cum a second later.

Both horcruxes are quiet for a long time after Ring pulls out before Denik whines, “Are you kidding me, Harry? I’m definitely not going to let this guy do _anything_ to me!”

Ring sighs, his hand going up to push up his sweat-matted hair away from his forehead. He looks annoyed, but there’s a flush on his cheeks that suggested he’s quite content. The image is unbearably hot, and since he’s older now, his chest and shoulders are way broader than before, and traitorously, his mind supplies him the image of how absolutely easy it would be for him to make good on his words.

“Do you still need my help?” Ring asks, but Denik’s already pulling away from Harry, frowning.

“No, your offer made me not hard anymore, so thanks for that.”

“You were okay with us both penetrating Harry and this is what makes you pause?” asks Ring. He’s already stepped away, pulling his robes back on as he talks to Denik.

“Totally not the same thing,” says Denik, sounding so much like the petulant teenager that he now is that Harry actually snorts and laughs. The two of them look at him with surprise, before looking at each other, their expressions unreadable.

When Harry stops laughing, Ring bends to press a kiss to his lips. When he straightens, he looks at Denik, “Take care of him,” he commands before sweeping out of the door, his robes flaring out behind him.

There’s a moment of silence in the room before Denik bends and presses his own kiss to Harry’s lips. Unlike Ring though, he deepens the kiss until Harry is whimpering into his mouth as Denik grips both sides of his face gently, drawing him even deeper.

It makes his head spin to be kissed so tenderly, with so much affection behind it, that when Denik pulls away, Harry’s a little lightheaded. 

Denik is looking down at him with an inscrutable expression, almost as if he’s unsure of what to do next. Harry’s heart aches for some odd reason and he to look away from Denik’s eyes. “Are you leaving like Ring?” he asks, and Denik shakes his head.

“No,” he says, and then he bends so he can gather Harry up into his arms. He brings Harry into a more comfortable part of the bed, where it’s not ruined by the cum still leaking out of him. “You should get some rest,” he says, “there’s no telling when the others are going to stop by.”

“Okay,” he says, uncertainly, because while he is feeling sleepy, the thought of the others coming to see him makes his heart race. He’s not sure if it’s in a good way or a bad way, but he supposes he has more than enough time to sort out his feelings. It’s not like Voldemort would be letting him go anytime soon. “You said my friends are safe?”

He hadn’t thought it was smart to ask while Ring was still here, because he still isn’t sure if the horcruxes are working together or not. He’s still not sure if he should even ask now, because it’ll be cruel to bring his hopes up for no reason, but he doesn’t think Denik would lie to him.

There’s a pause, and then Denik nods, “I can’t tell you more until we can teach you how to Obscure your thoughts, love. But yes, they’re safe. Please don’t ask me anymore questions.” He brings Harry’s hand up to his lips, kissing it softly in a sign of affection. Harry blushes and looks away, his heart soaring at the idea that his friends aren’t paying for his mistakes.

Of course, the whole world is, but at least his friends are safe. 

And Harry’s still alive. He might be the horcruxes’ playtoy and not know currently how he feels about all of them, but he’s _alive_. 

And if he’s alive, he can still save everyone. He’ll have to find a way to destroy the horcrux inside of him, and the other horcruxes too, but there’s still a way.

He just has to find it.

He’s just drifting off to sleep when Denik starts playing with his hair again. The gentle motion is enough to help him finally fall asleep and he shifts closer to it, a smile on his face.

Denik watches, a wistfulness Harry hadn’t seen in his green eyes. “I wish you were just mine,” he says, quietly, and then resigns himself to spending the rest of the day watching Harry.


	2. Settling in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please take a look at the notes at the end for list of kinks!

Denik is gone when Harry wakes up. 

The room seems lonely without Denik, and he slowly sits up, yawning as he does so. He feels groggy, maybe even groggier than he had when Voldemort first woke him up, and for a second, all he wants to do is to go back to sleep.

But he’s alone, and there’s no one watching him. It’ll be a loss if he doesn’t get up to explore.

He winces when his bare feet touch the floor. It’s cold, but there’s sunlight shining in from the window so he knows it isn’t night. 

And he’s sore. Denik and Ring had done a number on him last night and it isn’t painful, but just a reminder of what happened.

There’s a robe hanging on the side of a chair. He grabs the robe to cover himself, and then walks over to the wardrobe. He’s not sure what he’s expecting, but he hopes there’s at least some clothes for him to wear inside. His original clothes had been vanished by Voldemort and he didn’t fancy wandering around naked.

He stops when he peers inside the wardrobe. There are rows upon rows of outfits, all put together already with shirts matching the trousers below. There are even robes next to each outfit, all varying colors, and even with Harry’s limited fashion sense he could tell they are all expensive and in style. 

These can't all be for him, right? Surely, he isn’t their doll…

He grabs the first outfit with hesitation, and then looks at it critically. It’s the right size. 

How long had he been kept asleep? It had to be long, for them to have tailored so many outfits for him, and suddenly Harry is filled with the overcoming need to get out of the room.

He shrugs on the shirt and trousers, wincing when he had it all on because the trousers are a much tighter fit than he’s used to. He forgoes the robe, not wanting to waste time when he still had the robe from the chair. He suspects the robe to be Denik’s, but it doesn't matter, he just hasto flee before one of the horcruxes come to find him.

After all, there is no telling what the other three horcruxes want from him. He briefly wonders how they look like now, if they too had disguised their features that belonged to Tom Riddle. And if they were just as intent to take him like the other two horcruxes had…

To his surprise, the door opens easily under his hand. He doesn’t question his luck, and instead slips out into the hallway, desperate to find another way out.

He knows there is a high chance that he’s being stupid. If he stays in the room, he’ll be safe; he doubts that Voldemort will come visit him voluntarily and none of his followers can find him in there. But maybe he can find a way out. 

He pulls the robe’s hood up, obscuring his face. He hopes it’ll be enough; his wand is still missing so there is no chance of casting a glamour. Although with the horcruxes linked to him, he doubts any glamour will be able to trick them.

He is just nearing a courtyard when there is a sigh behind him. He freezes in place, not wanting to move.

Gently, the hood is removed as he is turned to face the person. Sunlight hits him, blinding him momentarily before he can see who is in front of him.

He notices the silver hair first. The man’s hair is longer, but thinner than Ring’s, tied off into a low ponytail. His red eyes are narrowed at Harry; his facial structure isn’t as aristocratic as Ring’s, but it’s still one of the most attractive faces Harry’s ever seen, almost as if it’s been sculpted. And he’s frowning, only giving Harry more of the feeling that he’s in trouble.

“Which one are you?” he asks, nervously, and the horcrux looks even more annoyed.

“You don’t recognize me?” the horcrux answers, and he feels so unfamiliar, more than the others had. Harry hesitates, not wanting to get even more on the horcrux’s bad side, but then the man sighs. “Diadem. But I go by Stephen now.”

Diadem had been the newest horcrux. The last one they had ever found, which meant Harry had interacted with him the least. That had been why Diadem had felt so unfamiliar.

Unbidden, Harry compares the way Stephen is looking at him to how Denik had. There is no love, or even friendliness inside his red eyes. Only exasperation, hinted at more with the way his mouth is currently shaped.

“So why are you out here without anyone watching you?”

“I don’t need anyone to watch me,” Harry bristles, and gets even angrier by the way Stephen raises an eyebrow at him in obvious disbelief. 

Then his face changes, thoughtful now. “Ah, I forgot Denik had to put down that rebellion. Which would leave you all alone in your room.” 

He fixes Harry with an intense stare now, looking almost disappointed in him. “And of course we couldn’t expect you to stay in there on your own. Even if it is safer for you.”

“I doubt anywhere is safe for me with Voldemort here,” he counters.

“He’s not going to do anything to you. Not with us here,” says Stephen, and unlike before, his voice is warm, almost cajoling. He places his hands on Harry’s arms, and without asking for permission, easily hefts Harry up. Harry squeaks in surprise because Stephen doesn’t look muscular or well-built but he doesn’t seem to be having any trouble.

He scowls at Stephen, but Stephen doesn’t seem to care, instead carrying him and sitting down at the courtyard’s table Harry hadn’t noticed before. It’s made out of pure marble, obviously expensive, and Harry narrows his eyes at it, wondering if Voldemort had it made after he had won.

He gets distracted after because Stephen lowers him until Harry’s straddling his lap. “Don’t you feel safe?” the horcrux asks, his hands already going up to massage softly at Harry’s shoulders and Harry flushes. It feels nice, and even if it’s weird, Harry’s starting to enjoy the way Stephen is looking at him. It’s so different from how Stephen was looking at him before that it’s exhilarating to see Stephen look at him with his pupils dilated.

Underneath him, he feels Stephen already stiffening up, hard and unyielding and poking into him. Before everything, Harry would’ve been horrified. But now, all it does is make him stiffen up in return, and he wraps his arms around Stephen’s neck.

Stephen is looking at him, and normally, Harry would be annoyed at the fact that Stephen’s smirking at him. The horcrux knows exactly what he’s thinking and what he wants, and Harry can’t even find it in himself to be mad. He just feels so good here, in Stephen’s arms, and he wonders if it’s because they’re linked that they’re both feeling a little out of control. 

When Harry leans forward, Stephen meets him halfway, pulling him into a kiss. It starts out chaste and then Stephen deepens it until he’s ravishing Harry, until Harry’s whimpering openly into the kiss, his head spinning. He knows they can take magic through him through kissing, but it doesn’t feel as if Stephen is doing so. It’s just the kissing that’s making it so hard to breathe, and when Stephen finally pulls away, he buries his face into the crook of Stephen’s neck, panting heavily.

“Is that all you can take?” asks Stephen, but he doesn’t sound condescending. Instead he sounds fond, his hand already caressing Harry’s locks as he holds him close. Harry’s heart is beating near uncontrollably, but Stephen is calm and collected. Harry doesn’t resent him for it, but it does make him nervous. He’s only known Stephen for a few hours before the ‘event’ happened, and now, when it’s just the two of them, Harry isn’t quite sure what’s going to happen.

Is Stephen like Denik? In the way Denik’s love is all encompassing and how he wants for Harry’s attention every minute? Or like Ring, in which he kept Harry at an arms-length even though Harry had no doubt that Ring still loved him?

He wonders what kind of Voldemort this is, what kind of traits Voldemort had left in him when he was made, and how exactly they would shape his interactions with Stephen.

It’s making him anxious to think about it, so he doesn’t think about it and instead grips tighter onto Stephen. 

Stephen’s chest rumbles as he laughs and Harry would be offended but then Stephen is littering kisses all over him. It distracts him enough that he doesn’t realize Stephen is gripping his bum until his trousers rip cleanly with magic. He yelps into Stephen’s mouth in surprise as Stephen slips a finger into him without warning. He’s still dirty from the earlier activities, and still open as well, giving Stephen an easy enough time to get two fingers into him.

He knows he should protest. They’re in public right now; anyone could be watching them and Harry has accepted that he can’t fight against them, that maybe he doesn’t want to fight against them, but it’s one thing to accept that and another to face the fact that anyone can see him getting fucked by one of Voldemort’s generals.

He’s not given any time to protest however; Stephen moves fast and once the horcrux is satisfied that Harry is open enough, he hefts him up. Harry stares down with wide eyes at Stephen’s smirk, flushing hard at the way Stephen’s eyes roam over his body, and then Stephen is bringing him down hard on his cock, eliciting a scream from Harry. He barely has enough time to cover his mouth with two hands before the scream is over and then Stephen is lifting him up and down, his cock filling him up and making Harry’s eyes water.

Harry keeps his hands pressed to his mouth as he’s taken hard, and he wonders just how long Stephen is going to take him for. The horcruxes always love to watch him fall apart, but he isn’t sure if Stephen is the same as the others.

And then Stephen is stopping, and Harry is definitely sure that the horcrux is just like the others. They love to tease him, and this is no different.

“Why don’t you show me just how much you like it?” asks Stephen, and he’s trying his best to sound innocent, and only breaks when Harry levels his best glare at the horcrux.

The marble is cold underneath his palms, and he’s trembling. It takes more energy than he thinks he has, but he dutifully lifts himself before sliding back onto Stephen. He can’t help the whimper that leaves him at that, and when Stephen doesn’t move or say anything, he lifts himself off again. He concentrates on the coldness of the marble and the burn in his arms as he rides Stephen before the hard cock inside of him hits the exactly the right spot.

“Oh,” escapes him, and he throws his head back as he gets greedy, moving faster and frantic as he rides Stephen hard. The pleasure encompasses him and he moans, long and loud, and then before he can even register what’s happening, Stephen is sliding out and turning him over.

He whines at the loss, about to complain when Stephen fucks into him with one swift thrust drawing an even more desperate sound from Harry. Stephen is relentless, thrusting so hard that Harry has to grip hard down on the marble table and hope that he doesn’t come first. Because he wants Stephen to lose himself first, as a way to show that really, Harry is the one in control and _not_ the horcrux currently fucking him so hard that Harry isn’t even aware of where he is anymore.

But he forgets that the horcrux can read his mind. Stephen stills, his breath hot as he leans down next to Harry’s ear. “Sorry sweetheart,” says Stephen, “but you can’t win against me. I know exactly how much you’re enjoying it.”

Harry bristles at Stephen’s taunt, “I’m not enjoying…” 

Stephen chuckles, so husky and fond in his ear, and cuts Harry off by gripping his cock and giving him that last bit of friction he needed. Harry whimpers hard as he almost blacks out, painting the underside of the table with his cum.

He goes limp and a few minutes later, he finally realizes that Stephen is still fucking into him, languid and hot and he whimpers a little bit at the realization. He buries his face into the crook of his elbow as Stephen continues to press deep down into him, and he trembles hard as Stephen lifts his hips a bit to get a better angle.

“Too much for you?” asks Stephen, and he should sound condescending, Harry knows he should, but all Harry can hear is concern. 

“You know it is,” he settles on and Stephen pauses, and withdraws after one particularly deep thrust that makes Harry’s toes curl.

He’s so out of it after coming, so relaxed that he doesn’t fight Stephen at all as Stephen moves his body around. He dutifully closes his eyes as Stephen finishes all over his hair, painting a mock crown he’s sure on the top of his head.

He barely stops himself from rolling his eyes at the childish antics of Stpehen, but he knows he’s unable to hide his amusement by the way Stephen looks at him. 

“I should leave that on you for your cheek,” says Stephen, but he goes to spell it off anyway. Harry nods his thanks before standing, his knees nearly giving out as he does. Stephen catches him easily, letting Harry lean against him before dropping a chaste kiss on his forehead.

“I’m late,” says Stephen, and Harry wrinkles his nose. He’s not going to apologize; he was the one just walking through a hallway, he didn’t _ask_ to be turned over and fucked hard. Stephen grins at his thoughts and pulls Harry close. “I guess I’ll just have to take you with me.”

“I can find my own way back,” he protests, but Stephen pats his bottom as a response, wandlessly fixing up his trousers as he does so.

“Don’t be difficult, love,” says Stephen, the endearing pet name falling so easily from his lips, bringing a hot flush to Harry’s cheeks. He didn’t think Stephen could sound like that, and he’s still musing over it as Stephen brings him into a side-a-long apparition.

* * *

“You brought me to Hogwarts?” he asks, and Stephen turns to look at him. Because of the wards, they ended up on the outside of Hogwarts and as such had a semi-long trek up into the castle. It didn’t help that the road wasn’t steady and that he still found it hard to walk.

He stumbles, and Stephen is there in seconds, sweeping him up into a bridal carry. He immediately flushes, his hand going to uselessly push at Stephen’s shoulder.

“This is embarrassing,” he mumbles, and Stephen grins, his hand comforting as his arms curl protectively over Harry.

“You can hide your face in my chest if you like,” says Stephen, “but no one here should be able to recognize you.”

Harry wonders if he should ask for more details since Hogwarts reopening meant he should recognize some of them. He didn’t have many friends in the years younger than him, but he had shared the castle with them for years. He should at least know some of the Slytherins.

But the thought of them seeing him so weak and being carried by one of Voldemort’s most trusted made him fearful. He didn’t want to feel anxious and judged, so he did as Stephen recommended, hiding his face into Stephen’s chest as Stephen carried him into Hogwarts.

To his surprise, he heard the bustling of students as Stephen moved through the crowd. None of them dared to say anything, and he closes his eyes, wanting them to reach their destination already. He didn’t want to think about how he had probably doomed all the students with his foolishness, not when he was already paying for it with his body.

He felt like crying when he thought more about it, and he burrowed his face deeper into Stephen, clenching his eyes shut tight. To his surprise, he felt Stephen’s pace quicken, but knowing how in tuned the Horcrux’s thoughts into his, it made sense that Stephen probably wanted to get to a secluded area to comfort him.

He almost felt cheered at the fact, but the thought that everything was for naught weighed on him, making it hard to breathe.

He was grateful when Stephen finally stopped moving and startled when he felt arms take him from Stephen.

“Who?” he asks as he’s taken quite protectively, and blinks when he ends up on a man’s lap, his back pressed up flush against the other man. He knows immediately it must be another horcrux, and he tilts his head back.

“Are you okay?” asks the wizard as he leans uncomfortably close, and Harry shudders as the man’s breath tickles his ear. He can’t see as much of Tom Riddle in this one, with how drastically his features had changed. He’s slimmer than the other ones, but his strength is easy to feel in the way his muscles are pressed up against Harry. He has short hair with stylish bangs, a light brown color that contrasts with his dark eyes covered up by glasses. He’s wearing a button-up shirt, with the top buttons left undone and Harry has to look away before he combusts out of embarrassment.

“Which one are you?” he asks, instead of answering the horcrux’s question, and the horcrux chuckles, the sound making his chest shake and only making Harry more embarrassed. The feel of those muscles on him is making him remember just how hard he had been taken only an hour before.

“You mean you can’t tell?” He sounds dejected enough that Harry has to look back up again, getting a pout for his efforts. It doesn’t detract at all from how handsome he is, and Harry finds himself wracking his brain to make the horcrux feel better.

The diary, ring, and diadem had already had their way with him. Which only left the cup and the locket, but with how sweet this horcrux is, it can only be…

“You’re Locket,” he says, and Locket’s eyes lit up.

“I love you,” he says, without any shame or aplomb, and makes Harry’s face hot. 

“Er,” he says, and the Locket takes that opportunity to bring him into kiss. The position they are in doesn’t allow him to deepen it, but Locket takes his time anyway, and even though it is nothing like the kisses the horcruxes usually give him, Harry’s heart thuds all the same.

When he finally pulls away, Harry feels a little dazed as he looks up at Locket. It’s always so disconcerting to have all their attention focused on him, and this is no different. He’s already frazzled by what Stephen had did earlier to him, so all he does is lean back into Locket as he tries to get his emotions back under control.

“Do you go by a different name now?” he asks, and Locket’s smile is indulgent as he looks down at Harry.

“Vasuki,” he says. “But I love hearing you call me Locket. It’s the first name I’ve ever had, and _you_ gave it to me.”

Harry’s cheeks burn at the sweet declaration; he always forgets how obsessed the horcruxes are with him, and how sweet Locket is. It makes sense that Locket is a little sweeter than the rest though; he had shared his space with a locket of all things, after all.

Locket’s massaging his shoulders now, without even a prompt from Harry, and it feels nice. He feels loved and comfortable and already thoughts of how distraught he had felt while Stephen had been carrying him through Hogwarts is already disappearing. 

“Okay,” he says, belatedly, and he lets out a little groan as Locket hits a particularly good spot. He feels languid and boneless, and he’s finally relaxed enough that his stomach lets out a growl.

He flushes; in all the commotion that happened in the morning, he had forgotten that he hadn’t had breakfast. Or even eaten anything since he last awoken.

He suddenly feels ravenous. He doesn’t even have to ask for breakfast however, because Locket is already snapping his fingers.

“What’s your favorite breakfast, sweetheart?” asks Locket, and Harry jumps as an house-elf appears suddenly. When he takes a while to answer, Locket turns to the house-elf. “Bring everything,” he orders and the house-elf bows, disappearing a second later.

“I can’t believe they haven’t fed you yet,” says Locket, and Stephen rolls his eyes, hearing the accusation for what it is. Harry looks around the room as Stephen and Locket start to banter, wondering just where they had taken him.

There’s a desk in front of him, and it takes him a while, but even though everything around the desk had been changed, the desk is the same. It’s Dumbledore’s desk.

Immediately, he wants to flee, but Locket is still holding him tight, and he’s chuckling, albeit kindly as his attention is brought back to Harry. “I couldn’t get rid of it,” explains Locket, “it’s where we all got to hold you for the first time.”

Harry flushes hard, unable to meet Locket’s eyes as his mind’s plagued with memories of what happened. Of how he had been passed around by the horcruxes, taken by two even at the same time, and taken so hard that he had put up no fight when they decided to take him to Voldemort. He resolves himself not to think about it, because thinking about it brought back feelings he dare not examine. He can already feel Locket stiffening up behind him from the memory, and he resolves to ignore how possessive Locket’s arms feel as they pull him even closer to his chest.

He’s saved from saying anything when the food arrives. There’s a multitude of savory and sweet dishes, and they take up the majority of the desk’s expansive surface. “I can’t eat all of this,” says Harry, and Locket laughs, his hand moving to the side of Harry’s hips. “I really can’t,” he says, even as his stomach growls.

“You’re a growing boy,” teases Locket, his hand insistent as he slowly massages Harry’s side. His touch is sensual, and Harry wonders if his face will ever stop feeling hot when he’s around the horcruxes. 

He decides not to argue with Locket anymore, and instead reaches for one of the plates. His stomach’s so empty though, so he decides first to go for the pumpkin juice. He stands up a bit to reach the pitcher, and then nearly topples over when Locket stands with him.

“What are you doing?” he asks, warily, and then freezes when he feels his trousers being undone. Unlike what Stephen had done to him earlier, it seems as if Locket wants him to be unclothed, and he flushes when he feels cold air hit his bum. He isn’t giving much more of a warning and since he’s still wide open from Stephen earlier, Locket slides easily in.

His knees give out and he stumbles, his elbows resting on the desk as he lets out a small, defeated whimper. 

Locket starts to move without giving him any time to rest, his hands insistent on Harry’s hips, keeping him in place. Not that Harry would even try to run, not with Stephen standing there, watching him with the slightest of smiles. He’s acting as if nothing is even happening, already placing one of the waffles on his dish and cutting it into small pieces.

Harry watches as he tries his best to keep quiet, and he blinks when Stephen holds out the piece to him. He hopes his expression conveys his bafflement, and it seems to do so because Stephen chuckles before brushing the syrup-laden piece against his lips.

“I can’t,” he says and then lets out a harsh yelp when Locket presses even further into him. He clenches hard onto the desk, barely able to keep standing. 

“You can,” says Stephen, and he’s smirking, the bastard, and when he holds it out again, Harry knows he’s not going to be able to win this battle. So he opens his mouth and bites it obediently off of the fork. Sweetness explodes in his mouth and he’s suddenly reminded of how ravenous he was. It seems even Locket fucking into him hard can’t abate that… Locket lets out an annoyed sound before thrusting even faster into him, as if in punishment.

He always forgets they can read his thoughts. But it isn’t as if he can get even more in trouble; he’s currently being fucked hard while eating so really, what else could they do to him?

Locket pulls him back, allowing him to sit on his cock. The suddenness of it makes Locket hit deep and he bites his lower lip hard as he tries his best to get used to Locket inside of him while sitting. His thighs are spread out on Locket’s, with his trousers bunched at his ankles and he feels debauched sitting there with Stephen looking down at the both of them.

“Eat, Harry,” says Locket, and when Harry turns to look at him, he can tell that Locket’s enjoying this. He really shouldn’t have taunted the both of them.

“I thought you loved me,” he says, and he squeaks when Locket takes offense at his words. Locket lifts him up easily and tantalizing slow before dropping him back down without a warning. He clenches hard, his face aflame, and glares when Locket captures his lips into a kiss.

When they break apart, Locket’s face is earnest. “I _do_ love you. That’s why I want you to eat before you faint.”

“But I can’t eat like this,” he protests, and is distracted when Stephen holds out another waffle piece. He doesn’t argue this time, and when he’s done chewing, “Fine, see? I’ve eaten.”

“I don’t think we can go back home until you’ve eaten properly,” says Locket, still as earnest as before. 

“Hmm,” says Stephen, “Harry should really finish all of this. He hasn’t eaten for days now.”

He looks down in horror at the food on the table. The implication of Stephen’s words is undeniable and he trembles as it settles in just exactly what the horcruxes are planning to do with him. Locket’s not going to let go of him until he eats everything…

“Please?” he tries, and when Locket just lifts him again, he looks to Stephen for help.

But Stephen’s just watching them, a serene smile on his face and another waffle piece on his fork. He’s resting his head on his hand, and he looks as if he’s absolutely enjoying the sight of Harry getting fucked.

And knowing the horcrux? Yes, they are definitely enjoying what they’re doing to him.

“Such a good boy,” says Locket when Harry eats another piece from Stephen and Harry tries his best to ignore the thrill the words elicit. He definitely should not be enjoying this.

He loses track of time after a while. Locket is relentless in his thrusts, and Harry has no clue when Locket’s going to start to fuck him hard. It happens more than once when he’s holding the juice in his hand; since Stephen’s only feeding him food, it’s up to him to drink and when he does, the liquid sloshes dangerously as Locket takes advantage of him. He’s barely able to keep his hand steady as he drinks, and he whimpers as Locket increases the pace every time. 

When he finishes the first time, he thinks it might be over then. Locket stills and he seems content to not finish himself, instead focusing on the way Harry clenches down hard whenever he moves just the slightest. But eventually, Locket starts to move again and Harry gives up then on any semblance of dignity and just tries his best to finish the food, ignoring the whimpers and pleas that fall out of his mouth every time Locket thrusts hard.

Eventually, Locket and Stephen start to talk about other things, and Harry, thankfully, still has enough of his mind to listen. They talk about Locket’s plan of reformation for Hogwarts, how he’s planning to abolish the House system, how he’s looking for new Professors that aren’t loyal to Dumbledore, how Voldemort’s plan was basically to make Hogwarts into a way to train more soldiers. He’s horrified, but he tries his best to stamp it down in case the horcruxes start to care that he’s actually listening.

But no, they’re much more preoccupied with making him lose his mind, spilling crumbs and liquid everywhere as well as dirtying himself with his own cum, so they keep talking and letting Harry listen. He wonders if their whole plan was to make him so out of it that he doesn’t even understand it anymore, and as soon as the thought crosses his mind, Locket stills and Stephen laughs, standing and depositing a chaste kiss on Harry’s mouth before they start to talk again.

Stephen’s in charge of the international affairs, which makes sense considering how comfortable Stephen seems in Hogwarts. They work together most of the time since one of the plans for Hogwarts’ reformation was to allow international students to spend more time abroad. Harry would be more interested if it didn’t come at a price of being under Voldemort’s thumb. It seemed as if Voldemort was looking to expand; having just Britain wasn’t enough.

It gave him shivers to think about; he already doomed Britain, he wanted to save the rest of the world too…

Stephen stood as soon as he thought it, and he looks amused. “I think Harry’s had enough.” He waves a hand and the still full plates on the desk disappear.

Locket hasn’t come yet once, and Harry knows exactly what’s in store for him. He shoots Stephen a glare, but Stephen’s already unbuttoning his trousers, a smirk on his face as Harry’s answer. Locket hefts him up, sliding out of him and letting Harry stumble forward, his knees giving out. Stephen catches him easily, having gotten on top of the desk, and he pulls him up, kissing him in the same motion.

“Brings back memories,” says Locket, a grin on his face, and Harry’s shivering in Stephen’s embrace as Stephen sensually moves one of Harry’s robe’s side down, exposing his shoulder. His buttons are spelled off a second later, and Stephen helps him out of his shirt, throwing it onto the chair he had just been occupying before.

“So pretty,” says Stephen, so soft that Harry almost misses it. But he can’t miss the way Stephen’s gaze roams over him hungrily, even though it had only been a few hours before he had taken Harry utterly.

What _is_ his life now? It’s not even lunchtime yet and he’s had sex twice already, not even counting the fact that Locket’s been tormenting him for the past few hours. He wonders why he doesn’t hate it, why the attention the horcruxes bestow on him is more intoxicating than terrifying... He supposes it must be because he doesn’t want to think about anything else; just like how it had all started, Harry rather fall into them than to think about the horrors that await him in the future.

He’s knocked rudely out of his thoughts as Stephen slides into him, a whimper torn out of him as he’s pulled further into Stephen’s arms. Stephen’s cradling him tenderly, an affectionate kiss to the side of his head as Locket puts one hand on the small of Harry’s back, pushing him into Stephen before placing his cock on the back of Harry’s bum.

It hadn’t been that long since he had been in this position. Last time, Locket had been the one underneath him, but now it’s Stephen, whispering dirty nothings into his ear as Locket teases his entrance with the blunt head of his cock. Harry shivers as Stephen’s tongue darts out, and then he’s not thinking at all because Locket shoves in and Harry’s so _full_.

It doesn’t hurt, just like last time, and he knows it’s thanks to magic. But he can still feel the pull of the friction as Locket draws out, and he lets go of his inhibitions, a long moan drawn out of him as Locket slams back in. There’s no one there but them, and he’s already surrendered to them.

His mind’s wonderfully blank as they continue to have their way with him. It’s more enjoyable than it should be to surrender everything to the two horcruxes, and thankfully, it’s not long before Locket finishes into him.

Stephen takes a bit longer, even with Locket’s cum easing the way and the other horcrux drawing out. Stephen’s been teased even longer than Locket has, so he takes his time, enough so that Locket turns to do paperwork. 

When Stephen finally finishes, Harry’s so out of it, he’s not even sure if he can stay awake for much longer. He’s cleaned with a spell, and then Stephen’s drawing him into a deep kiss. Harry doesn’t fight it at all, and when Locket asks for a kiss, Harry breaks away and kisses him voluntarily.

Locket’s eyes are shining when Harry pulls away. “I chose those clothes for you, by the way,” he says, and he sounds smug about it. Stephen sighs, depositing his own robes onto Harry’s shoulders, leaving him still naked underneath it.

“He looks better without clothes anyway.”

Locket hums, looking contemplative. “You’re right,” he says. He waves his wand and the rumpled clothes disappear from the chair. “He should stay naked.”

“I can’t walk around like this,” says Harry, and he knows he should sound more indignant, but even to himself, he just sounds wry. He wonders when he got so used to their whims.

“You’re not going to be walking,” says Stephen, and he gets close enough to bring Harry into a bridal carry. “I doubt you can even walk.”

He doesn’t argue. He can’t; he’s not even sure himself he can walk. Thankfully, Stephen’s robe dwarfs him and it’s enough to keep him from showing everything. 

“See you at home?” asks Locket, and Stephen pauses. To Harry’s surprise, the horcrux bends, pulling Locket into a kiss. Harry watches with wide eyes as the kiss continues, and when Stephen finally pulls away, Locket grins at Harry before shooing the two of them off.

Stephen’s careful with him as they apparate home, and he drops Harry off to his room before he regretfully has to leave. “Don’t go wandering off by yourself again,” he orders, and when Harry glares at him, Stephen chuckles. “Or else you might get fucked again. Cup is taking his afternoon tea, you know, maybe I should let him know you’re home?”

He can’t stop the involuntary shiver at the thought and Stephen’s chuckle turns into a genuine laugh. Harry knows it must be because Harry’s not sure whether to be scared of Cup finding him or hopeful that he does.

He doesn’t know how to respond, but luckily, after one last kiss, Stephen leaves him. The door is locked from the other side, and Harry’s shoulders drop in disappointment. Though he isn’t silly enough to want to leave not when leaving had resulted in him getting fucked for the whole morning.

He hopes this is it for the day, that he doesn’t get any more unwelcome surprises, but he’s not feeling very lucky. There’s five horcruxes that are insistent on his time and he’s only seen two of them today…

With a sigh, he drops Stephen’s robe on the floor and makes his way to the bathroom. A relaxing bath sounds just about perfect right now; insistent horcruxes can be worried about later. He just wanted to get clean and then nap the rest of the day away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ch2 kinks: public sex, riding, threesome, sex w/ food, multitasking sex, double penetration and as always dubcon/noncon.
> 
> hope you guys enjoyed! i have a free weekend so hopefully i can hammer out some more. thank you everyone for all the lovely comments last chapter, and hope you enjoyed this one!


	3. Voldemort's Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please take a look at the notes at the end for list of kinks!

The bath is luxurious. He has to stop and stare for a while, and wonder if it’s modeled after the Prefect’s Bath in Hogwarts. 

Though he mostly stops because there’s a man inside the bath. The water’s hot enough that there’s steam rising from the surface and Harry has to squint to make out the man’s features.

He has his back to Harry, but even this far away Harry already recognizes the man’s posture and knows it has to be Cup. Who else would feel comfortable enough to use his bathroom while he’s not in the room? 

His hole clenches as his heartbeat quickens, and he has a thought to turn around and run. But the door’s locked, and honestly, if he stays in the bedroom, it would only be a few minutes’ difference before he runs into Cup. At least this way, if he faces him right now, he has a chance to get clean.

He tries his best to keep his footsteps quiet as he makes his way toward the bath. He still has Stephen’s robe on, and although he’s embarrassed about it, he sheds it, not wanting to get it wet and dirty. Consequentially, it leaves him naked, but Harry tries his best not to be too bothered. Cup’s seen him naked before.

He has enough time to study Cup’s features before the horcrux turns to notice him. His hair’s shorter than Stephen’s, but barely longer than Locket’s thanks to his bangs. It’s a brighter red than he expected; he always thought Cup would end up with a blonde hair color to signify the cup he occupied, but with Denik’s hair being blonde and Locket’s just bordering on blonde and brown, he guessed Cup went rogue and chose red.

It suits him though. With his blue eyes, the red looks even more striking and it doesn’t wash him out despite its bright color. He’s in the middle of studying Cup’s eyes when the horcrux notices him, his intense eyes lighting up in recognition.

“Harry,” he says, and he makes to move to get out of the bath. But Harry moves faster, getting into the bath before Cup can get out. It accomplishes two things: allows him to hide his nakedness before Cup can drink in his fill and to hopefully stop Cup from taking him before he can get clean.

Cup’s smile is wry when he looks over, and he knows Cup can read his mind to know what he’s thinking. 

“So those two already got to you?” asks Cup, sounding amused. “It’s not even noon yet.”

Harry flushes at the reminder and he sighs. “Stephen said you were going to be at teatime.”

“On the day we finally get to wake you up? Of course not. We can have tea later if you want. I did just get some exotic teas imported lately that you might love.”

Harry pauses before he can reply because Cup had just given him a lot of information and he knows he should be asking about the first part of Cup’s statement, but the image of Cup sitting and drinking tea is so far-fetched that it brings him to a stop. He never imagined the horcruxes could do such human things like this.

“You’re being silly, love,” says Cup, interrupting his thoughts. “It’s been months, of course we’ll be different from what you remember.”

“Months?” he echoes, and he tries his best not to panic. He knew it had been a long time, with everything that had changed after he had woken up – Locket was Headmaster now, and he still didn’t even know in whose Manor they were staying. But months!? It’s all he can do not to think about his friends and how much they had suffered while he had been sleeping.

“Yes,” says Cup, depositing a kiss on his forehead before continuing. “It was safer to keep you asleep. Everything was being changed around you.”

Hogwarts was already under Locket’s thumb, and apparently Denik was putting down rebellions. And Stephen was in charge of international affairs. A lot of things had changed, and Voldemort was the cause of it all.

“Don’t be like that,” says Cup, and Harry blinks as Cup gets even closer to him. Harry can’t help but to notice that Cup’s close enough to kiss, and Cup smiles as he does so before pulling Harry even closer to him. “Don’t worry about anything like that, love. You just have to live your life and let us take care of you.”

“I’m not a pet,” bristles Harry and Cup shrugs, relaxed in a way Harry knows means Cup has no intention of listening to Harry’s protests. 

Cup’s not wrong in a way, and his own shoulders slump as he lets Cup hold him. He is like a pet, even more so thanks to the horcruxes being able to read his every thought.

“So did you change your name?” he asks after a minute of comfortable silence, and Cup nods against him.

“Ganymede,” he says. “I like it better than Cup.”

“Oh,” he says, a flush on his cheeks, “some of the others like their names, you know.”

“Only because you gave it to them,” points out Ganymede, and Harry can’t help but to get even more embarrassed at the obvious sign of the horcruxes’ affection for him. He can’t imagine being okay with someone calling him after an inanimate object, but apparently, the horcruxes are unpredictable.

The bathwater’s temperature doesn’t seem to be abating at all thanks to the magical waterfall in the middle, and Harry’s feeling sleepy thanks to how comfortable it is. He had gotten up rather early and then was captured by Locket and Stephen so now that Ganymede’s just stroking his back idly, he can’t keep his eyes open. Ganymede seems to notice this, evidenced by the way he’s smirking, but Harry can’t find it in himself to get angry over it, not when he feels so relaxed.

“Why did you choose red hair?” he asks, and Ganymede pauses his ministrations as Harry reaches out and takes a piece of red hair in his hand. It’s so bright and out of place, but it’s beautiful in a way Harry can’t help but think. It’s soft, and he runs his hand through it and to his surprise, when he glances at Ganymede, he has a slight tinge of pink to his cheeks.

“Oh,” he says, and he’s briefly surprised at the way his heart flutters at the sight of a blushing Ganymede. It’s so different from how fierce he usually looks and the flush makes him look…adorable.

Ganymede scowls at his thoughts and before Harry can react, Ganymede pulls him into a deep kiss. He doesn’t attempt anything else besides kissing Harry senseless, but in a way, Harry feels even more frazzled than he did earlier in Hogwarts. Ganymede’s kissing him so deeply and with so much fervor, his head’s starting to spin. The heat doesn’t do much to help him keep calm either, and soon he’s lightheaded from how turned on he is as Ganymede bestows kiss after kiss on him, bruising his lips and making Harry’s whole body feel weak.

It feels good and Harry can’t get close enough. He holds on as tight as he can onto Ganymede, delighting in the way Ganymede does the same and their bodies are flushed together with nothing else in-between them. They’re naked, after all, and the skin to skin contact makes him tremble in pleasure. 

“We should get out,” says Ganymede when he finally stops kissing Harry senseless, and Harry blinks, taking a while to come back to coherency. He bites his lip, feeling like an idiot for feeling _disappointed_ that Ganymede doesn’t want to do anything else; he’s sure that if it was any other horcrux in here with him, he would already have something filling him up.

Is it bad that he wants that? He feels empty in a way he’s sure he would had never felt before if he hadn’t become so accustomed to the horcruxes taking him whenever they wanted, and the thought makes him heave a long sigh of embarrassment, burying his face in Ganymede’s chest as his cheeks get even hotter than before. He knows the horcrux can read his mind, so he doesn’t want to look up at Ganymede to see his reaction.

He squeaks in surprise when Ganymede doesn’t wait for his response, hooking his arms under Harry’s legs and standing. Water rushes down past their legs at Ganymede’s action, and they leave droplets on the floor as Ganymede carries Harry with ease toward the exit, where an abundance of towels lay in wait for them. 

Ganymede wraps one around Harry, toweling him off and laughing when Harry makes a face. It feels domestic what they’re doing, and yet, Harry is still as hard as he was in the bath. Ganymede pauses when he wraps the towel around Harry’s shoulders again, looking down at Harry’s hard cock with a pleased smirk.

“I’m too used to it,” he protests, trying to make light of how aroused he is thanks to Ganymede’s presence, but as always, the horcrux knows what he’s thinking so all Ganymede does is deposit another kiss on his lips before pulling away.

“Close your eyes,” commands Ganymede and the sensible part of him wants to protest because letting the horcruxes do whatever they want with him is how this all started. But he obeys, closing his eyes and trying his best to relax when Ganymede’s hands encircle his waist. He’s hyper aware of his breathing as Ganymede’s hands leave sensual trails, and he swallows hard when they stop at a dangerous place.

“Ganymede,” he whimpers, and then there’s something entering him. It’s colder than he knows the horcruxes are but its width is something he’s all too familiar with and he arches his back as Ganymede works the rest of it into him. By the time it’s all the way in, he’s panting and out of breath, and he whimpers again when Ganymede pulls him into a bruising kiss.

“What did you put in me?” he asks when Ganymede lets him go, and Ganymede smirks at him before holding his hand out and whispering a spell. Harry’s back goes straight as he feels something slot into place, and when he turns around, he sees a cat tail. He can control it with his thoughts and when Ganymede goes to touch it, his whole body freezes as waves of pleasure descend upon him.

“Oh,” he breathes, closing his eyes again as Ganymede deliberately strokes it. He’s so distracted by the feel of something foreign inside of him that he doesn’t realize Ganymede is putting something on him until it’s clicking close.

He raises his hands to feel the hard metal around his neck, a single bell hanging from the middle of the collar. “Really?” he asks, unimpressed, and Ganymede uses the collar to pull him closer. 

“You look perfect,” says Ganymede, “We just have to get you dressed.”

He’s not looking forward to seeing the numerous outfits in the closet again, but he doesn’t voice any of his protests and follows Ganymede out. As he does so, his tail swishes without any conscious thought, making the toy inside of him move as well. His knees nearly give out in surprise, but before he can fall, Ganymede sweeps him into a bridal carry.

Harry sighs, knowing he can’t win, and lets Ganymede dress him in his chosen outfit. White silk cloth drape over him, the silk so soft it makes Harry shiver as it does so. It doesn’t do much to conceal his body, but Harry guesses he should just be grateful that he _can_ wear clothes considering what Stephen had been intent to have him walk around in.

Ganymede’s eyes darken, despite the brightness of the blue, at the sight and Harry has to look away, a hot flush on his cheeks. Before everything, before he became the chosen pet of the horcruxes, he had never put much stock in his appearance. But now? With all the affection the horcruxes gave him, with the way they _looked_ at him, Harry felt…

It was scary, sometimes, the way they looked at him. They took him so many times, Harry wasn’t sure if he was even coherent sometimes. But when Ganymede is looking at him like that, like he’s a treasure to behold, Harry feels beautiful. There is no other way to describe how he felt to experience their hunger firsthand, and he can’t keep looking at Ganymede when he made him feel this way.

Fortunately, Ganymede is much more content to carry Harry to their next location, and when Harry turns and buries his face into Ganymede’s chest for comfort, Ganymede’s grip on him tightens. “You’re safe here,” says Ganymede, and proving he truly did know all of Harry’s thoughts, continued in a lower voice. “And you are beautiful. The most beautiful treasure we have ever seen.” 

Ganymede’s sweet words become another reason he is hiding his face because they make his face feel even hotter than before and he doesn’t want anyone to see him like that. Ganymede knows exactly how he’s feeling either way thanks to the tail wrapping itself around his wrist, and he hides his smile as he continues to carry Harry down the hallway.

* * *

By the time they reach their destination, the sun is high in the sky. Thankfully, the place Ganymede brought them has shade created by tall hedges, leaving their tea table to be pleasant despite the heat. There are a multitude of different kinds of teatime snacks, but because Harry had eaten so much for breakfast, he’s not feeling very hungry. On the other hand, tea sounds calming, and there are so many types for him to choose from, it’s a little overwhelming.

He nods his thanks when Ganymede leaves him in his seat and watches as Ganymede pulls out the seat opposite of him. Out of nowhere, stacks of paper appear on Ganymede’s side, and Harry watches as Ganymede pulls out the quill from the inkwell, signing his name with a flourish on one of the parchments. It seems as if Ganymede had work to do and wanted Harry to keep him company.

The thought of how boring this was going to be crosses his mind for a split second and then the tail inside of him moves. He clenches hard, his cheeks aflame and his hands gripping tight on the teacup in front of him. It’s only thanks to him biting his lip hard that no sound escapes him and it’s only when it stops does he have enough mind to look up at Ganymede.

Who is no longer paying attention to Harry. He’s still sorting through documents, and Harry would fall for it if Ganymede didn’t have a pleased smirk on his face. He’s debating if he actually wants to say something, but the tail is still moving and who knows if Ganymede will make things even more intense if he said anything. So he purses his lips and tries his best to ignore the things happening to him.

Ganymede seems disappointed in a way, and he pushes forward one of the plates. Beautifully decorated macaroons are on the plate, with painstakingly crafted flowers made out of fondant, and he stares at it. The tea he’s sipping does make him want something sweet and he’s about to reach out and take one when the tail starts to swell, increasing its size.

This time, he can’t hide the startled whimper that escapes him and he clenches hard onto the tablecloth, one hand still outstretched. He’s flushed and biting his lip is the only thing stopping him from falling apart completely. 

“Are you okay?” asks Ganymede with faux concern, and Harry answers him with a glare. Ganymede chuckles at him, picking up one of the macaroons in his hand before holding it out for Harry to bite. 

“What is with you…horcruxes…making me unable to eat in peace?” he complains in-between pants after he finishes chewing the bite of macaroon and Ganymede smiles at him, beatific. Outside, the red in his hair is even more striking, but Harry keeps his eyes narrowed, annoyed beyond belief. Honestly, he’s not a toy and having his arse played with at all times of the day was getting old fast.

“You’re not a toy,” says Ganymede, “a pet. You’re a pet.” True to his words he reaches out, hooking his finger in Harry’s collar before tugging him forward gently. Harry doesn’t fight it, kissing Ganymede like the horcrux wants before sitting back with a frown.

He really should be putting up more of a fuss even if all it does is annoy Ganymede. But he can’t help it. The tail doesn’t hurt, even embarrassing and degrading as it is, and he’s quite comfortable like this in a way. It feels good to be in the sun and the tail only moves every now and then even if it is bigger than he’ll like.

It’s almost…relaxing. He never thought he could be this relaxed after learning of Voldemort’s win and since Ganymede had gone back to paperwork again, he’s allowed to do whatever he wants. He is a little bored, however, and when he voices it, Ganymede calls on a house-elf. The house-elf comes back with a multitude of books and although Harry isn’t as obsessed as books as Hermione is, it still beats doing nothing but admiring Ganymede across the table.

He takes his time choosing a book, and when he finds one to his liking, he takes it, cracking it open to the first page after taking another macaroon into his hand.

Ganymede seems content to leave him alone and they work and read in peace for a while. Harry’s only past the first few chapters when a shadow falls upon him. He blinks and looks up, and then freezes.

Voldemort is staring down at him, a bemused smile on his face. He doesn’t look as scary as he usually does in the bright sunlight, but he still looks oddly out of place in such a scenic area. Regardless, there’s a huge lump in Harry’s throat as he stares up at Voldemort in horror.

After spending so much time with the horcruxes, he had forgotten that he is still very much in danger. He had forgotten all about the way Voldemort had greeted him when he had woken up, how tightly the fear had gripped his heart when he came face to face with Voldemort’s visage.

Even the tail, so large and unforgettable inside of him, couldn’t distract him from wanting to flee from Voldemort’s presence. Voldemort had spelled him naked and vulnerable, given as a gift to the horcruxes as an incentive to work for him. Harry hopes he’ll just leave, without taunting Harry, but he knows that the hope is futile.

Instead of leaving him alone, Voldemort doesn’t even acknowledge Ganymede’s presence, reaching out a hand to tilt Harry’s head upward toward him. He’s smiling and Harry trembles, wondering just how much trouble he’s going to be in.

“Enjoying yourself, Harry?” asks Voldemort, his voice high and reedy, and Harry lowers his eyes, his heart beating so fast it makes him lightheaded. This, more than anything, makes him feel shameful. He shouldn’t be having such a good time when it’s his fault that everything had gone wrong. He prays for something to divert Voldemort’s attention, to get the bastard far away from him, but knows no help is coming. He’s alone here.

But surprisingly, his savior comes from somewhere unexpected.

“What are you doing here?” asks Ganymede, and to Harry’s surprise, the horcrux sounds annoyed. He thought the horcruxes would do anything for Voldemort, but it seemed as if he had judged wrong. Voldemort’s eyes cut over to Ganymede, and he’s pressing his lips together so tightly they form a thin line.

“Do I need your permission to come to my grounds?”

There’s a long silence as the two stare at each other, and Voldemort’s hand falls back to his side as he turns to face Ganymede. Harry glances between the two of them, his eyes wide in surprise, and watches and wonders if Ganymede is going to back down. Ganymede doesn’t look as if he’s going to, however, his arms crossed as he glares up at Voldemort. Right now, Harry is reminded that Ganymede is Voldemort’s horcrux, in the way the horcrux doesn’t seem like he’s going to back down anytime soon. Apparently even Voldemort’s ire isn’t enough to scare Ganymede.

Harry doesn’t want Ganymede to get in trouble, though. Despite the fact that the horcruxes like playing around with his emotions…and his body, they’re still the only ones on his side. If Voldemort gets angry with them, he’s not sure where that leaves him.

He takes a deep breath to steel up his courage and he’s about to slam his book closed and come up with something to distract Voldemort when surprisingly, Voldemort acts first. Instead of punishing Ganymede like Harry expected him to, all Voldemort does is sit down, his robes billowing out to the side as he does so.

Voldemort sits there and after a long while, Ganymede sighs, pushing over a document over to Voldemort. Harry watches in muted shock as Voldemort takes it, scanning the document before signing his own name at the bottom. It’s so weird watching the two converse over which document to sign, almost as if Voldemort is one of the horcruxes that are currently besotted with Harry. He watches, unable to go back to his book, and it’s only when the tail suddenly moves that he looks down, his face hot.

He never imagined that Ganymede would play around with him even with Voldemort sitting right there, and it’s the fear combined with the arousal that is making him tremble. He’s barely able to hold back his reactions as the tail moves without any pause, thrusting so hard that he’s sure he’s shaking visibly. He stares down at the teacup in his hands, his knuckles white as he fears Voldemort’s reaction. 

There’s a long silence and he feels his face burn because he just knows the two of them are watching him. Ganymede he had expected and prepared for; Voldemort, he had not. He wondered how pathetic he seemed in front of Voldemort, and how utterly helpless he truly was.

The long silence is broken by the sound of a chair scraping. He looks up in surprise, but Voldemort was already there, staring down at him with the same amused smile he was wearing earlier. “You’re still afraid of me,” he said, stating the obvious and it takes all of Harry’s restraint not to roll his eyes at such a stupid remark.

Out of the corner of his eye he can see Ganymede barely able to hold back a laugh, and Voldemort seems to catch it too judging by the way his mouth purses. “You should stop being so afraid,” he continues, “since you are fucking me.”

“I am _not_,” he denies vehemently even though he knew exactly what Voldemort was referring to. Despite this, he colors in shame because he is. He is even if he’s denying it. Voldemort seems to know it too.

“It’s alright,” says Voldemort, and Harry shivers because it sounds kind and benevolent but Harry knows it’s anything but, “You will learn to accept your fate, Harry.” 

Harry’s about to protest, about to do something to show Voldemort he isn’t scared of him, but then Voldemort is leaning down, capturing Harry’s lips for his own.

It’s over so fast that Harry doesn’t even have time to react, and he’s sitting there shell shocked when Voldemort finally straightens up. “You’ll be the perfect husband, Harry. All in due time, of course.”

That finally gets his mouth to start working again, but by the time he’s able to voice his displeasure at Voldemort’s words, the other wizard is already walking away, and Harry is left shouting at Voldemort’s back.

“I hate him,” he says, with feeling, and Ganymede smiles at him. 

“Good,” says Ganymede. “You shouldn’t like him. You’re ours.”

“And what did he mean by that?” he asks. Ganymede freezes, his quill halfway to the document as he refuses to meet Harry’s eyes. “I’m not going to marry him. _He_ doesn’t want to marry me, does he?” 

There’s a long silence and Ganymede sighs. “Yes, he wants to take you as his husband. To further keep everyone in line.”

“And you’ll _let_ him?” he lashes out, standing in his anger. His tail stands upright in his anger but Harry ignores how stupid that makes him feel and instead focuses on the fact that the horcruxes are just offering him up to Voldemort. “You stupid horcruxes say you love me. That you won’t let me go! And yet, when he asks, when he says I’m to be his …” he swallows in his anger, unable to even speak the word out loud before continuing, “Don’t you care?”

“I don’t care,” says Ganymede and Harry’s heart shatters at Ganymede’s words. He sits down abruptly and he doesn’t know why he feels so hurt; just yesterday, he hadn’t expected anything from the horcruxes after their betrayal. But Ganymede’s words strike him at his heart and he doesn’t know what to do, how to react. They were supposed to be on _his_ side.

But Voldemort was right. He is fucking Voldemort, in a way. He can’t possibly expect them to betray Voldemort for _him_.

Can’t he, though? They said…he never should’ve trusted them.

“Let me rephrase,” says Ganymede, and in Harry’s turmoil, he never even notices the horcrux standing to get closer. “I don’t care because he’s not going to get what he wants. We don’t care what he wants because you’re _ours_.”

The words make his blood sing and Harry colors, not knowing why he was so affected. He shouldn’t care about their words so much, not when –

His thoughts are cut off once again when Ganymede tugs on the collar, pulling Harry close enough to ravish. He surrenders immediately, so worked up with Voldemort’s confrontation and then the tail that’s _still_ inside of him, and he lets himself stop thinking and instead only feel the way Ganymede is holding onto him like he’ll disappear.

The tail is there one second, and then gone the next, banished by Ganymede’s wandless magic. Harry only has a second to feel loss at how empty he feels before Ganymede is thrusting in without any warning, filling him up so good that Harry nearly passes out. He had been teased for so long that it feels indescribable to finally get closer to some sort of release, to some sort of promise that this will be over soon.

He babbles incoherently into Ganymede’s shoulder as the horcrux lifts him up, allowing Harry to wrap his legs around him. He holds tight as a way to make sure he stays grounded, and he yelps when with a burst of a magic, Ganymede vanishes all the macaroons, teacups, and documents, leaving the table as a perfect spot to fuck Harry on.

Harry catches on, and he’s about to protest when he’s laid rather lovingly on it, Ganymede still thick and hot inside of him. He’s momentarily distracted when Ganymede pulls him into a kiss, soft and sweet, and it’s only when Harry hears giggling from the other side that he freezes. He’s pulled out of the reverie he had been pushed into by Ganymede’s large dick so abruptly that he feels dizzy with it.

“We’re in public,” he says, into Ganymede’s neck and Ganymede laughs at his shyness, his chest shaking with it. 

“You let Stephen take you in the courtyard,” Ganymede replies, and Harry pounds his chest in anger, albeit with little force behind it.

“That’s _different_!” he said, and he closes his eyes in peak embarrassment. This is – there are – Voldemort had people over, didn’t he? Maybe even Death Eaters? He didn’t even want to know who was close enough nearby to see what they were doing, and it seems as if Ganymede catches on just how embarrassed he is.

“It’s okay,” says Ganymede, “They can’t see anything.” It seems as if this is the extent of Ganymede’s mercy because he starts to roll his hips, driving into Harry so deep that he whimpers at it, digging his nails into Ganymede’s chest.

He tries his best to ignore the fact that there very well might be a lot of people watching them right now – because if he thinks about it they’re in the gardens and the hedges might be tall but the windows – the bloody large windows he had admired as he walked through the hallways might be filled with people looking out at them.

Watching as Ganymede fucked into him hard, thrusting so deeply that Harry’s toes curl in pleasure. He’s unable to hold back now as Ganymede increases the pace, holding him tight and as a result, making sure Harry can’t move. He wonders just what a sight they make, and as he does, he meets Ganymede’s brilliant blue eyes and stares at the way sweat travels down Ganymede’s face. Ganymede is smiling, as beautiful as ever even as sweaty as he is, and Harry gives up, knowing even _if_ he had a problem with this, it wasn’t like he could do anything about it.

If…he had a problem with it. He refuses to acknowledge the part of him that is preening with the attention, with the thought that the voyeurs know exactly who the horcruxes are in love with. And how well they fuck him and how well Harry _takes_ it. Voldemort might want him as a husband to keep the defeated in line but he would have to deal with the fact that Harry is getting fucked way better by the horcruxes than he ever will be by Voldemort.

“That’s an idea,” said Ganymede, reading his mind as he always is, and Harry colors at it. And then he’s unable to think much more about it as Ganymede starts to fuck even harder into him, making the table shake with the force the horcrux is putting in it.

It goes on for at least an hour. Harry’s sure about it. Time seemed to go on forever in the haze of pleasure, and by the time Ganymede’s finally pulling out, Harry feels so weak he thinks he’s going to pass out. He’s come already, multiple times thanks to Ganymede’s skillful fingers, and he wonders just how many people will be talking about him now. Because by the second time Ganymede had made him finish, Harry had been out of his mind, unable to even attempt to muffle himself as Ganymede continued despite Harry’s slowly declining state of mind. Even now, Harry is barely awake, just cuddled into Ganymede as he attempts to catch his breath.

“I hate you,” he says, with as much feeling as he can muster, but it must not match with how he’s feeling inside, because Ganymede just chuckles and hefts him up into his arms. 

“You might need another bath, love,” is all Ganymede says. Harry sighs, defeated, and buries his face into Ganymede’s chest and knows he’s lost another battle today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> public sex, sex toys, a little bit of sex w/ food (i feel like i just rewrote chapter 2 kinks lol...)
> 
> as always, thank you for joining me on this adventure!


	4. Escaping

Life quickly settles into a routine. 

After living through the first two chaotic days after he had just woken up, Harry didn’t think he would ever get used to anything. But he does. He adapts. He gets used to being woken up by one of the horcruxes, sometimes chastely, sometimes not so much. He gets used to being fed while being fucked, something he’s not quite sure he would have ever thought possible before he had become the horcruxes’ toy. And most importantly, he gets used to the way the horcruxes take care of him.

Sometimes, he goes along with Ring as he signs over documents in his office. He likes Ring, but those days are when he’s most stressed because Ring not only tries to teach him stuff, but he also punishes Harry whenever he remembers something wrong. And usually, Harry can get used to being punished, to learning through such methods, but then sometimes, _Voldemort_ stops by. He can’t be too surprised, not when Ring’s office is so nearby, but he’s still getting used to the horcruxes, he can’t get used to Voldemort, too.

He’s still deathly afraid of Voldemort, but luckily, Voldemort seems to understand his fear and stays away most of the time. He knows it can’t last, but there isn’t a point in worrying about It, not when there’s nothing he can do.

Stephen and Locket seem to like to take him when they’re together. Usually, he’s taken to Hogwarts, most notably the Headmaster’s Office, but sometimes, he gets lucky and they get to go to Hogsmeade. No one ever approaches them and Harry never recognizes anyone, but he can see the effect of Voldemort’s reign on the shopkeepers. They don’t dare meet the horcruxes’ eyes, and sadly, they don’t meet Harry’s either. He wonders what story Voldemort had told the public, and he desperately wants to find out. The horcruxes know about his curiosity, but they don’t let him buy the Daily Prophet and he’s not even allowed to talk to anyone when they’re out in public.

He knows better than to rebel; with how often the horcruxes read his mind, there’s no way he can get one over on them. And besides, how can he plan something when he’s constantly getting bent over? Stephen is just like Ganymede and likes to take him in public, so sometimes, he’s not even given the courtesy of a warning before he’s being entered and Harry is ashamed to admit how much he likes it.

Ganymede takes care of him in the Manor, usually. Most of the times he meets Ganymede is during teatime. Sometimes, he’s _really_ unlucky and he entertains a horcrux in the morning, another in the afternoon, and then one at night. Those are the days he can barely even attempt to walk and he has to deal with the horcruxes healing him while smirking all the while. They’re enjoying what they’re doing to him, keeping him so incoherent that he can’t even think of a way to rebel.

Besides teatimes, Ganymede also takes him to Gringrott’s. They survey the Vaults together, and one notable time, Ganymede even takes him in one of the Vaults. Harry steadfastly refuses to piece together who the Vault belongs to, but he has a feeling it has to belong to someone he knows because Ganymede is chuckling as he fucks him.

Harry sees Denik the least. It’s not because he likes Denik least out of all them; in fact, Harry dare say he misses Denik the _most_. It may be because he sees the other horcruxes so often, it’s almost impossible to miss them. He even wakes up cuddled against one of them almost every day, and sometimes, he even wakes up with them starting to get frisky with him. It’s a wonder that they can get anything done for the day with how infatuated they are with him, though Harry isn’t complaining since the more he sees the horcruxes, the less he has to think about what’s actually happening in the real world.

The times he sees Denik, his heart hurts. It isn’t as if Denik is bloody _all_ the time Harry sees him; sometimes, he’s completely fine and is just tired from following all of Voldemort’s orders. But sometimes, Denik’s covered in bandages and even though Denik’s eyes light up when he sees Harry, Harry hates seeing him like that. And it’s complicated because Harry doesn’t know if he feels this way because Denik’s putting down rebellions and having Denik hurt meant the rebellion was doing well. That Hermione and Ron were able to rally up some people and maybe there was a chance he could get out of this. That they could all get out of this.

But Harry knows better than to dwell on it, and thankfully the horcruxes don’t bring it up even though they probably know just how conflicted Harry’s feeling.

Surprisingly, it’s not often that they’re all together. Voldemort keeps them all busy enough that some days, Harry doesn’t even see one of them.

Today seems to be one of those days; he hasn’t seen or heard the horcruxes and it’s already noon. The house elves have already dropped off lunch and Harry’s halfway through his meal when the door opens.

He doesn’t react because the horcruxes pop in so often that Harry’s used to it. But when he looks up, it’s Denik standing at the door, his expression impossible to read. He’s not moving and Harry jumps to his feet, worried despite himself that somehow Denik’s gotten hurt.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and Denik’s eyes soften as Harry closes the distance between them. He’s so _young_ and it always throws Harry off whenever he sees Denik do anything. The rest of the horcruxes are so much older than him that it’s easy to compare them to Voldemort, to not get so attached as he is now. But Denik’s _his_ age, and the blonde hair only makes him look more youthful. He fists his hands into Denik’s robes, pulling him forcefully further into the room and closing the door after him.

“Are you hurt?” he asks again because Denik hasn’t answered and he takes his time to study Denik. His robes aren’t damaged for once, and Denik’s standing normally. He runs his hands down Denik’s side, checking to see if Denik winces or not because it’s happened before with Denik hiding his bruises from Harry. Thankfully, this time, Denik doesn’t flinch away but he does catch Harry’s hands in his own.

“I’m fine,” says Denik, and he’s smiling so brightly that Harry narrows his eyes at him. Denik’s far too happy for it to be a normal day and Harry’s suspicious. “I’m just happy you’re worrying about me.”

Harry huffs, and he’s about to say something when Denik pulls him close, depositing a kiss on his lips and deepening it almost immediately. Harry squeaks into it especially when Denik lets go of his hands in order to bring him even closer, his arms encircling him around his waist and holding him tight. Harry loses himself in it, closing his eyes and letting Denik do with him what he wants, just like he always does for the horcruxes.

Denik makes a sound at that, and Harry resists the urge to laugh because out of all of them, Denik’s the only openly jealous one. He wants to keep Harry all to himself, a sentiment most of the other horcruxes don’t take very seriously. Harry thinks they should, though, because he won’t be very surprised if one day Denik decides to kidnap him.

Which Harry really won’t mind, considering the alternative is becoming Voldemort’s husband.

“Are you okay?” asks Denik when he finally stops ravishing Harry senseless. Harry pants, a little dizzy from how good and long Denik had kissed him for, and shrugs.

Denik frowns, hefting Harry up into his arms and pinning him against the wall. Harry flushes, always a little thrown by how easily the horcruxes manhandle him and places his hands lightly on Denik’s shoulders. “I’m fine,” he says, “just like how you’re fine.”

Denik scrunches his eyebrows up in confusion. “Are you really fine? The others aren’t taking care of you?”

“They are,” he says, “it’s just…”

“You’re _worried_ about me,” says Denik, his voice breathy in wonder. “You don’t want me out there.”

“Not for _you_,” he says, and Denik easily catches the lie in it, his smug grin only growing wider. Harry flushes because yes, he’s worried for whomever Denik is taking care of, but he’s also ridiculously worried for Denik. “I shouldn’t be worried,” he ends up saying.

“Yes, you shouldn’t be, love. There aren’t many people who can hurt me.”

Harry scoffs at that, “You were just bandaged up last time I saw you!”

“I so do enjoy your concern,” is all Denik has to say for himself, and Harry lets out a frustrated sigh, only to squeak in surprise when Denik dives in, kissing him all over and making him laugh.

“Hey!” he protests, and then it turns decidedly not as innocent when Denik sucks his neck hard, turning the skin red. He’s going to have a bruise there later, and the other horcruxes are going to be annoyed when they see it, he just knows it.

“You’re going to get yourself in trouble,” says Harry, and Denik grins. “Why are you here anyway? And why are you so happy?”

“It’s my day off,” says Denik. “So we’re heading out today.”

Harry blinks; he’s had his share fair of outings with the other hocruxes but never one with Denik. Usually Denik sees him here, in his room, which makes sense because Denik’s job is to put down rebellions. He can’t imagine the other horcruxes to be very happy to know Denik’s going to take him out on the frontlines. It wasn’t safe after all, and if Harry’s on the frontlines…he can possibly escape. His heart thunders at that, and Denik’s smile is wry when Harry can finally focus back on him.

“Really?” asks Denik, but he doesn’t seem mad, more amused. “You do remember we can read your mind, right?”

Harry shrugs, and he’s about to quip back that it doesn’t matter, that he’ll find a way, when Denik grips his bum hard. Harry yelps, and he glares at Denik, who is still smirking. “And how will you even be able to escape when you can’t walk?”

“Not funny,” he says, even though he knows Denik isn’t trying to be. Denik raises an eyebrow, and then lifts Harry further into his arms, turning so he can throw Harry lightly onto the bed. Harry yelps and then scrambles onto his knees but by the time he is, Denik’s already caught up to him, pulling Harry’s bum closer to his crotch.

“So not funny,” he repeats himself, and Denik laughs, depositing a kiss on Harry’s cheek and then proceeds to lift Harry’s robe up. He’s not wearing bottoms because what would be the point when he’s taken so frequently, so it’s only a second before Denik is sliding right in. He bites down hard on his hand to muffle himself and then Denik’s thrusting into him so hard that he’s whimpering. 

By the time that Denik’s finally done with him, he’s made good on his promise. Harry’s having trouble walking; he’s barely able to stand without leaning heavily into Denik’s side. Denik had gone hard on him for his cheek and Harry feels unusually sore whenever he stands straight. He glares up at Denik, whose face is flushed with the exertion he used to screw Harry into the mattress for a whole hour. He doesn’t seem worse for wear though beyond that; if Harry is being charitable, he’ll be honest and say Denik’s glowing from their session.

“I’ll get you back for this,” he grumbles and Denik laughs, sounding a lot happier than he had when he first walked into the room. 

“Of course,” he placates Harry. “Now, let’s get you dressed up.”

“Why?” he asks, “the others are more than happy to play with me in public no matter what I’m wearing.”

Denik’s eyes darken at the mention of the other horcruxes, but he doesn’t remark on Harry’s comment, instead turning to the wardrobe and picking out an outfit for him.

He helps Harry get into it, buttoning his shirt close for him as Harry obediently lifts his arms. Denik’s quiet as he does so, and if Harry is being honest, it seems as if Denik is nervous for some reason. He lets the silence stew, unsure of how to break it, and by the time he thinks of something, Denik is linking his arm with Harry’s.

He spins, and with a crack, apparates the both of them.

* * *

They’ve been walking for ten minutes; well, as much as Harry _can_ walk without limping pathetically. He’s just about to swallow his pride and ask Denik to carry him, or maybe even heal him, when Denik stops still.

Denik’s been quiet the whole way, and now he’s fidgeting nervously. Harry’s puzzled, “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” says Denik, but he sounds distracted, his eyes on Harry and then the open space in front of them. Harry’s confused but then he turns his attention to what’s in front of them and then nearly falls in surprise.

In front of him, Hermione’s walking through a shimmery wall, obviously magic. Perhaps a ward to keep what’s inside hidden. She doesn’t look surprised to see him, but she’s obviously emotional judging by how bright her eyes are.

“You – what – Denik?” he asks, stammering in his shock and Denik’s smile is pained.

“You’ll be safe here,” he says. “I’ll make sure Voldemort will never find you.”

“You’re leaving me?” he asks. He turns pleading eyes on Denik. “You can’t leave. He’ll kill you.”

“He won’t,” says Denik. “He still needs me.”

“He will,” he argues. “He’ll know you’re the one who let me escape. And the others, how are they -?”

“Harry,” interrupts Denik. “Of course the others helped me. We _love_ you. We told you from the very beginning; all we wanted to do was make sure you’re safe.”

“But what about you?” he asks.

“We’re him, Harry. He can’t kill us, okay? We’ll be safe.”

He knows he’s ignoring Hermione, but she’s patient about it for some reason, keeping quiet even though Harry knows and feels the same as she does – he’s happy to see her, so happy to finally be back, but Denik’s leaving. And no matter what Denik says, there’s no way Voldemort won’t punish him for Harry's disappearance.

Surprisingly though, it’s not him who speaks up. It’s Hermione. She steps forward even though she had been quiet all the while, and her voice is firm despite the softness of it. “You should stay, Denik.”

Denik blinks, looking thrown at her request. “I …”

“No one knows you’re a horcrux besides Ron and me. And we won’t tell anyone. You’ve proven yourself trustworthy already many times over. Harry’s right, if you go back now, he’ll kill you.”

Harry’s surprised Hermione’s just as vehement as he is. But then again, Denik had saved Hermione from Bellatrix that one time and he had saved them many times over after that. Granted, Denik and the others were one of the main reasons everything had gone wrong, but it seemed as if Denik had made up for that. After all, he had to be the one to save Hermione and Ron and maybe even others.

He grabs Denik’s hand, holding it as tightly as he can even as Denik looks between Hermione and him, indecision easy to see on his face. “The others…”

“We’ll go back for them,” he promises, and even though Denik’s the one who saved him, who is here right now, the others had been in on it. They always only wanted what was best for him; how could Harry ever abandon them? “And if you stay, they can blame it on you.”

“That would work,” says Denik, hesitantly, and Harry’s heartbeat quickens as he leans forward, pulling Denik closer to him. Denik lets him, his eyes wide as Harry brings Denik’s hand up to his mouth, kissing it softly on top of Denik's knuckles.

He’s not behaving normally, but he can’t help it. He doesn’t want Denik to leave, and he knows this way, Denik can’t imagine leaving him. He can already see the way the fight is leaving Denik’s shoulders, and knows that at least for now, they’ve convinced him to stay.

“For me?” he asks, as quietly as he can, and when Denik nods, looking a little dazed, the tight grip on his heart slowly melts away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorter chapter for now! Since I can’t come to a decision on whether or not Voldemort will join or not, I’ve decided to write different outcomes. Please let me know if you want to read the Voldemort wins scenario first or the rebellion/horcruxes winning.
> 
> http://www.strawpoll.me/20580736

**Author's Note:**

> Names & appearance:  
Thank you to ichigo777 and Bam-bi for the name of Stephen, Bemusedfox for the name of Vasuki & Ganymede/Aquarius ! And thank you to everyone who suggested names, I loved all of them! <3
> 
> Denik: Diary horcrux. Has blonde hair and green eyes . He is in charge of Voldemort's Army/ tasked with putting down rebellions. He loves Harry the most openly, and wants what is best for Harry.  
Presley: Ring horcrux. Long black hair tied off in a low ponytail. He deals with the Wizengamot/takes the place of the former Minister for Magic position that was absolved. He loves Harry, but does not show it. Very stern.  
Vasuki: Locket horcrux. short brown hair bordering on blonde with long bangs, wears glasses over his dark eyes. He dotes on Harry a lot, super sweet and overportective  
Stephen: Diadem horcrux. Long silver hair tied off in a low side ponytail with red eyes. Very arrogant, spent the last amount of time for Harry and is slowly falling for him.  
Ganymede/Aquarius (will decide in ch 3 which one I'm going to keep): Cup horcrux. short bright red hair with baby blue eyes. Super possessive of Harry and wants to keep him all to himself.


End file.
